


Wash Away My Sins

by Ohmylordy



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Supportive Chloe, Upset Lucifer, but also fluff, established deckerstar, fanart inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohmylordy/pseuds/Ohmylordy
Summary: When Lucifer falls down, Chloe will always be there to pick him back up again. Based on the lovely fanart created by the wonderful SeedsofLIly.





	Wash Away My Sins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeedsofLily](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SeedsofLily).



> This is based on a lovely drawing, done by SeedsofLIly, of our beloved Deckerstar kissing in the rain. This is for you Thank you so much for letting me write you this. I hope you all like it!

She is trying to fight back the panic when she finds him on the beach. Their beach, as she has come to think of it.

It was only early evening but the sky was a dark grey, the sun obfuscated by the storm clouds that had blown in over the past hour, and it casts the world in a weak light that makes everything look saturated and bleak.

Lucifer stands staring out at the water, which had turned black in the dullness, turbulent waves of white peaks dotting the horizon and sending rough waves crashing to shore. He stands there completely still, shoulders hunched. His jacket is in a crumpled pile next to him and his shirt is untucked and haphazard where it seems to hangs limply on his shoulders, already soaked through by the spray. He looks so broken and it sucks the air from her lungs.

She still can’t get the sight out of her mind. All of that blood. There was so much blood.

But that isn’t what matters right now. What matters is him.

Lucifer.

The cold wind whips around them as she approaches him, blowing abrading sand into her eyes and face. A bolt of white light shoots through the sky before the low rumble of thunder rolls ominously across the sea.

The sky looks like it's about to fall around them.

“Lucifer,” she calls out, but the wind carries her voice away.

She approaches him slowly and stops when she is a few feet away.

“Lucifer” she tries again, trying to keep the waver from her voice.

He jerks slightly, and it is the only indication that he’s heard her this time, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Chloe, please” he rasps, when she comes to a stop only a few feet behind him now. The sound of her name cracking in his throat nearly breaks her heart.

“No, Lucifer,” she insists. “This wasn’t your fault.

“It’s  _ always  _ my fault,” he grits out, plaintively, clenching his fists. Fists that are still stained dark with dried blood. ““You didn’t cause this feud, Lucifer. You tried to stop it, to make them see reason, it was just too late. It was already too far gone and nothing would have changed that.”

She closes the distance between them and reaches out to touch his arm, but he jerks away at the contact.

“I’m the one who started it!  I’m the one who drew out the desire, brought it all out! They could have gone on in their blissful ignorance for the rest of their lives but I meddled where I didn’t belong and now…. 

“My siblings were right, detective, I  _ am _ evil and all we have been doing is fooling ourselves into believing otherwise.” He scoffs and shakes his head.

He still won’t look at her.

“I should have stayed gone when I left all those years ago. Your poisoning should have been a message, loud and clear. You all would have been better off without me in your lives.”

Steady droplets of rain finally begin to fall and Lucifer tilts his face up to the sky as if he is willing the water to wash all of this away.

In a manner of seconds, the clouds have opened up around them in full, soaking them both to the bone, It feels tiny spears of ice, heading straight to her heart. She whispers the next words with barely-contained anger.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you  _ dare  _ say that to me. You may have turned my life upside down when we first met but don’t you dare tell me it was a mistake. We have overcome impossible obstacles together and still came out the other side. Don’t you dare dismiss that.”

She takes a few gasping breaths, forcing herself to calm down. This isn’t how she should be doing this. But he is scaring her.

“Please,” she whispers, forcing her voice to be gentle. “Please don’t run from me. You promised me we would fight through all of this together. You don’t break promises so don’t make this your first.”

She feels like a bitch for using that against him. She shudders and wraps her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together or maybe to keep warm. Probably both.

“Then you should let me go. Tell me to go and run as far away from me as possible.”

“This isn’t some damn contract. I know I mean more than that to you.”

She does know it’s true. But the doubt is hammering in her brain and she is fighting to keep it together.

He bows his head until all she can see are the tense lines of his shoulders. He doesn’t reply but it’s answer enough.

“Dammit, Lucifer  _ talk  _ to me! Why --”

_ “Because this is what I am! _ ” he roared as he whips around to face her, his eyes flashing with a neon fire his face the rough patchwork of raw burns and terrible scars. His wings materialized in a brilliant flash of pure resplendence, his large primary feathers sharp and threatening. Instantly, the feathers are sodden by the deluge, making them look even more terrible. 

Terrible and glorious at the same time.

And as if by some celestial cue, a bolt of white fire Illuminated the sky, shrouding him in its light, followed a split second the deafening crack.

In that moment, he was pure power and rage. Dangerous. 

The Fallen Angel in all of his terrible glory.

It was supposed to terrify her. 

It didn't. It only makes things clearer.

Because all she saw in those burning eyes, his scorched and scarred face, the splendorous wings, - was pain. A deep an inescapable agony.

But as soon as it came it seems to all rush out of him. His shoulders slump forward and he looks at her, his expression so hopeless, his amber eyes so raw desperation it nearly brings her to her knees.

“This is what I am,” he repeats on a whisper, his voice breaking on the words. “This is what I am and it’s time we both accept it. People get hurt around me and I can’t - If I were to hurt you, Chloe, I -- the words seem to catch in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut. 

The rain streaks down his face, catching in the jagged contours of his face and dripping off the sharp lines of his nose and cheeks. She feels like weeping. She feels like Lucifer already is.

This. This is what scares her.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him cry.

 

____

  
  


Chloe doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch and he can’t understand. She stands her ground, never taking her eyes off of him. Can’t she understand what he is? That they have just been fools this whole time, kidding themselves. Pretending that there was more to him than just the monster, that they could actually have something together. 

He watches in utter stillness as she closes the space between them, and it’s as if she is in slow motion. His lungs feel tight in his chest as he attempts to breathe.

Then she is in front of him and she reaches a cautious hand out to brush her fingers against the sharp curve of his cheek, meeting his burning, making sure that she has his attention. He draws in a sharp breath.

Carefully, she slides her hands down his neck and shoulders until her fingers come into contact with the edge of his wings, her fingers brushing gently against the small tufts of feathers there. They are soaked through by the freezing wind and her touch is like fire. It registers belatedly in the back of his head how backward that is. 

And then the full realization hit him. His wings. They had somehow materialized too. But he didn’t - How-?

But the thought seems to grind to a halt as she starts stroking carefully down the expanse of his wings like they are something delicate.

She lets her eyes follow her ministrations and all he can do is stand there, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, drowning out the sound of the lashing wind around them. It feels so nice,  _ so nice.  _ He can’t help but stare at her.

But he still doesn’t understand.

“You told me once, a long time ago, that they are a manifestation of what you believe yourself to be,” she speaks, at last, so quietly that had he not superpowered hearing, he would not have been able to catch.

She smiles ruefully and her eyes start to shine with tiny diamonds of moisture. He brings up his hands to her cheeks on instinct and flinches at the sight of his marred red hand. He moves quickly to redraw it but she catches his wrist and holds him there, her other hand continuing its exploration of his wing.

“This proves everything to me. You have been through such unimaginable pain, have been asked to do unspeakable things, hold in so much rage. But it’s not your fault. The world turned everything around, blaming you for their own failings, their own hate. But that is on them. You were just trying to survive, Lucifer. And that meant having to accept the role that was forced upon you. And that’s okay.” 

He lets out a scoff that sounds more like a sob and shakes his head. But she tightens her grip on his wrist and he forces himself to meet her eyes

“It will always be a part of you, and that’s okay, but so are the wings. Maybe you’re not an Angel,  - not if you don’t want to be - but you are full of so much  _ good.  _

I have seen time and time again how much you care for the victims, how hard you fight for justice for them, even if it is in your own way. I see how you fight for the people you care about, for the people you love. You are always there to offer support to Ella, or Trixie, even Dan, even if you still sometimes pretend that you’re annoyed when I know you aren’t.” 

She gives him a watery smile, but there are too many confusing emotions rushing through his head that all he can do is stare at her and wait for her to continue.

“You bring me lemon bars and coffee, and crack stupid jokes at inappropriate times and give me bullet necklaces as a symbol of trust, despite the fact that I was the one who shot you with it in the first place.

You have come so damn far and I am so proud of you”

He tries and fails to muffle a sob. But, oh, he is just so bloody tired. He wants to believe her so badly. To just let her hold him while he weeps, keeping him safe. He feels so pathetic.

He hears the detective gasp softly and it snaps his focus back to her. He is confused about what it was for until he catches sight of the hand that she is still pressing to her cheek. The horrid red flesh is gone, back to its normal pale white, save from the dark stains that still mottle his fingers. They are in stark contrast in the weak light, but they are human again.

He opens his mouth to speak but he is so overwhelmed he can’t seem to find what to say.

Chloe moves her hand up from his wrist and takes his trembling blood-stained hand in hers. The one with a ring matching his own. She rubs soothing circles over the back of his hand, his fingers as if to wash it all away. Then she brushes her fingers gently over the onyx stone, the smooth silver band. 

She presses their entwined hands to her chest, slick with rain but so very warm, and he can feel her heartbeat, so steady and strong against his skin. And she rests her head against his. She is grounding him there with her. He closes his eyes and tries to let himself be enveloped by her, her touch, her smell, and her very essence that he so desperately craves.

“I know who you are,” she rasps, her warm breath ghosting across his lips. “You’re my partner, my best friend, the person who literally went to Hell and back for me and who I know would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Taking a deep breath, she squeezes her hand even tighter around his.“Your’re the one who gave me this ring, this  _ promise _ .”

She releases his hand and lifts both to cradle his face, lifting on her toes and pressing a kiss to  his forehead, his cheeks,his chin - every inch of his face until finally, she meets his lips. It’s soft and gentle and she holds him there for a long moment before pulling away, but only enough that she is staring directly into his eyes, She tilts her head up again so that she is meeting his gaze, breaking the hold she has on his hand to rest hers on his jaw, Her eyes are a light grey in the half-light, and her hair is plastered to her head and face, but she looks so beautiful staring up at him like that. With so much ferocious conviction.

“I know who you truly are, she whispers, and I believe in you, Lucifer. And I forgive you, for whatever it is you think you need forgiveness from. I will tell you that as many times as you need me to. I believe in you and that will never change. I love you so much”

Her words jolt through him like an electric current. His heart shudders in his chest. He feels paralyzed and energized at the same time. It doesn’t matter how many times she has said those words, each time is like hearing it anew. And hearing it from her now fills him up suddenly and completely as if forcing out the beast clawing at his heart.

He still can’t understand what he did to deserve this, her. Her love - her unconditional unwavering love. Her faith in him that seems to run so deep in her veins.

But it fills him up, her love for him, her ferocity. His own love for her that is so all-consuming that right then and there it eclipses all else.

He doesn’t even try to control it he lets it take over, control his every move. He rocks her backward as its as his mouth seeks her, needs her. Her mouth is searing on his and it's like a fire that melts his heart, spreading outward to his limbs. And despite the fact that neither of them was breathing at the moment, the air that had felt like it was being sucked from his lungs for the past few hours rushes back into his lungs, cool and fresh and sweet. 

And he can’t seem to make himself stop. - needing, taking, until finally, it overwhelms him and in one swift motion, he has his arms around her waist, hoisting her up until her legs come around him, holding on tight. He presses deeper into her kiss, tightening his arms around her and dragging her impossibly closer. Their wet clothing, thin to where he can feel the warm skin of her torso pressed against his.

Her hands come up to the back of his head and bury themselves in his hair, digging into his scalp. The pain is sharp but it feels oh so good.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, doesn’t care. Every kiss is like a balm, soothing and healing the wounds of this day. 

Eventually, the initial surge ebbs away, the kisses getting deeper and less heated until finally, Chloe pulls away, resting her head against his and closing her eyes and breathing deeply. He wishes they could stay like this forever.

The rain finally seems to have let up without them realizing, turning into a light patter that falls softly around them. The storm has passed and there is the barest hint of the sun peeking out of the clouds, but it's enough to brighten up the world and wrapping them in warmth.

He sighs deeply, letting the contentment of the moment wash over him

“I love you too,’ he breathes, so softly he wonders if she can hear him.  “Chloe. More than anything on this or any other plane of existence, any other universe, I love you.”

She pulls smiles at him, her hand moving to caress his jaw.  her eyes shimmering with adoration and relief, and happiness. He can’t help but smile too.

All of the anger, the pain, the guilt, seems to have been blown away with the storm, leaving only to raw and battered hearts that are ready to heal together.

And in that moment he feels forgiven. He feels washed clean.


End file.
